


His Touch

by DerekMyStiles



Category: Joker (2019)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Arthur becomes a father, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Massage, Mild Angst, Not Beta Read, Oral Sex, Pregnancy, Pregnant Reader, Pregnant Sex, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-15
Updated: 2019-11-15
Packaged: 2021-01-31 09:36:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,635
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21444097
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DerekMyStiles/pseuds/DerekMyStiles
Summary: “Shh, Kitten, just a moment,” he murmured, crawling up your body and reaching for the nightstand where the condoms were. You caught his wrist before he could reach it and his eyes snapped to you. You blushed, even as your thighs squeezed his hips closer to your body. “We could… We could skip that?”. . .You and Arthur were together for a few years now and you were ready to take your relationship to next level. You wanted a family. But is Arthur fit to be a father?OR the shameless description of Arthur worshipping your pregnant self
Relationships: Arthur Fleck/You
Comments: 10
Kudos: 151





	His Touch

When you first brought up your wish to start a family with Arthur, he freaked out. No, _freaked out_ would be an understatement.

“What?” he said breathlessly, eyes wide as saucers.  
“I want to have a baby. Your baby,” you simply repeated with a soft smile on your lips.  
“Hah! Are you- hahahaha- are you _crazy_?” he exclaimed, standing up from the couch abruptly, taking a few steps back, pulling at his hair nervously. “A baby! With me!”  
You stood up as well, walking over to him and taking his hand. He tried to free himself from your hold, but you held on tight yet softly, pulling his palm to your cheek, nuzzling into it. He was gasping for air now, trying to supress his nervous laughter. You heart was breaking for him. “Arthur, I love you. You know that, right?” He met your eyes for a moment before glancing away quickly, finally taking his hand back. Turning away from you, he started pacing over the length of your living room.

His hands shot up to his mouth and neck as he struggled to stop himself from laughing. But as always, it was pointless and his panicked laugh bubbled up from his throat. “I- hahahaha! I _can’t_ be a father! Hah!” You wanted to argue back, but before you could say anything, he continued, the laughter subsiding now, leaving him breathless. “I’m _a freak_! A failure and a loser! I’m the last person on Earth that should breed!”

“That’s enough!” you yelled and he jerked, stopping where he stood. You rarely got angry with him, let alone enough to actually raise your voice at him. You weren’t the type and you knew how stressed he got during any arguments. You felt bad about this situation, didn’t think he’d react this strongly, but… It had been on your mind for a long time. Each day you woke up next to Arthur, you loved him more. Every time you saw him interacting with children, either during his clown job or while running errands, you grew more assured he’d make a great dad. His every look your way was so full of love and care, you couldn’t and didn’t want to imagine your life with anyone else.

You hated it when he spoke about himself like that. You especially hated it when you knew he was just repeating something someone said to him. “Who told you that you shouldn’t breed?” you asked, voice calm again now you had his attention. He shrugged, looking at his feet. “Why does it matter? It’s true,” he said bitterly. “No, it’s not!” you snapped and said in equally strict tone, “Don’t you respect me at all?”

He looked at you, his eyebrows making him look like guilty puppy. “What? Kitten, why- what makes you say that? Of course I do!” his voice was wobbly, it was almost adorable how confused he got. “Then why are you doubting that I can decide who would make a good father of my child?”

Arthur breathed out forcefully through his nose. You could say he was getting frustrated now. “I love you so much, I’d do anything for you,” he said, sounding defeated. You came closer to him, putting your hands on his chest, running them softly up and down a bit. He looked you in your eyes, his soft curls framing his face beautifully. “But this… I am- I am _ill_. And if the child took after me, then… And even if the baby was fine, what if I wasn’t? What if… What if I left you? Or- or hurt you?”

You stood on your tiptoes, pressing a kiss to his forehead. His eyes slipped shut, but you didn’t miss the sheen of tears in them. “Arthur, I trust you, even if you don’t trust yourself,” you whispered. “You are doing so well for years now. You go to therapy; you take your pills. You are doing so great.” Next, you pressed a kiss to his lips and kept the pressure steady before he let out a soft sigh, his mouth opening against yours as he deepened the kiss. His hands, shaky, slipped around your waist, moving up your back and pulling you closer. Your hand travelled from his chest to his neck and up to tangle your fingers in his hair. He hummed, pressing into you more for a moment before pulling away, leaning his forehead against yours.

“If you…” you said, voice shaky with emotion, “If you don’t want to have a child with me, I am fine with that.”  
“You are not,” he chuckled, his eyes still closed, hands running up and down your back in soothing motion.  
You smiled, “Okay, I am not, but I won’t force you. I just want to be with you, we can just get a cat or whatever,” you said, humour in your voice now. So what, you won’t be a mother, that’s life. You valued what you had with Arthur now more than some vague dream of a future.  
Arthur was silent for a moment, but then his hands stopped moving and he opened his eyes, staring deep into yours. “I do want to have a baby with you, Kitten,” he said at last, making your heart jump, “Just… just give me some time, alright?”

You could do that.

Arthur worked his ass off. Not just physically – taking any clown job he could _and_ picking up some shifts at nearby store, just so he made some more money – but also mentally. He worked tirelessly with his therapist and by himself, doing what he could to deal with the fact that he would, if universe let him have it, become a father.

You were pawing at his clothes and he was walking you backwards into your bedroom, trying to unclasp your bra. His hand slipped and the elastic band snapped against your skin, making you giggle. “Shit, sorry,” he gasped, pressing his mouth against your neck, right into the spot that always, always made your eyes roll back. “Arthur!” you gasped as your legs bumped against the bed. His shirt gone, you let yourself fall back against the sheets, pulling him with you. He settled between your legs, pushing his hips against you. Your bra finally gone, he didn’t waste any time latching his lips on your nipple, biting and pulling, making you moan breathlessly.

Sometimes, in moments like this, you almost had time to wonder how you got here. When you met Arthur, he was shy and painfully virginal. First time he saw you topless, he came into his pants and all but ran out of your apartment, only to come back half an hour later, almost choking himself by how quickly he tried to apologize. You took it slow, but you didn’t get bored. There was something exhilarating about the way he made you feel. It was exciting to see him open up more and more. He was still shy, that won’t ever change, but now he knew what he was doing, _liked_ doing it and revelled in the power he held over you when you gave yourself to him fully.

But you forgot all about it now, as he threw your panties away and licked at you, humming against your core in satisfaction while simultaneously trying to rid himself against what was left of his clothes. Your fingers curled in his hair and you pushed your hips against his face – it was made for it, his nose pressing right against your clit as his tongue delved inside you. You were going mindless with the pleasure he was giving you and wanted to scream in frustration as he pulled back, pressing a soft kiss against your inner tight.

He chuckled, sensing your desperation, “Shh, Kitten, just a moment,” he murmured, crawling up your body and reaching for the nightstand where the condoms were. You caught his wrist before he could reach it and his eyes snapped to you. You blushed, even as your thighs squeezed his hips closer to your body. “We could… We could skip that?” His mesmerizing eyes felt as if they were staring right into your soul as he gazed at you for a long moment. Then, slowly, the most dazzling smile spread over his smile and he nodded, “Yeah… Yeah, we can,” and laughing fully now, he pressed kisses all over your face and neck and shoulders as his hand run up your thigh where it was still wrapped around him. Holding your stare, he pushed into you, surrendering himself to your pleasure.

You didn’t get pregnant then, but it still felt like a start of something new, something monumental.

The two of you weren’t exactly trying. You just skipped the condoms now and hoped for the best.

Arthur, however, sometimes sabotaged your attempts, even though you could hardly complain when he did. The sight of his cum leaking out of you drew him completely wild and as result, your intercourse often ended with your legs thrown over his bony shoulders as he ate you out ferociously, sucking and licking his sperm out of you, making you spasm and curl around him as orgasm wracked through your body.

He knew something was different the moment he entered apartment and saw your face. He got nervous instantly, but the bright smile you gave him eased his worries completely. It took him a moment longer to take in rest of the scene – you snuggled up in your favourite blanket wearing _his_ favourite sweater, mug of cocoa on the table and next to it, a pregnancy test.

The laughter bubbling up from inside of him was beautiful and full of happiness now.

Just as you thought, he was incredible right from the start. He was pampering you relentlessly, but knew when to back up as not to smother you. He got all available books on pregnancy and child care and read them more thoroughly than you did, even though he struggled with many of the words used and his reading speed was still that of a snail.

He accompanied you to all doctor appointments while keeping up with his work schedule and therapy meetings. You thought your heart will surely burst any time now, so full of love it was.

You saw the glint in his eyes the moment your doctor stopped her explanation. You knew you were in so much trouble now.

Dr. Halloway was kind and understanding and knew many useful tips. She explained in great detail how important it was to thoroughly moisturise your skin during pregnancy and what oils to use to retain skin’s elasticity, to avoid stretchmarks as much as possible.

When he came from shopping that evening, one bag was full of all the brands and oils Dr. Halloway mentioned.

It became a sort of an evening ritual for the two of you now.

You took a shower or a bath and Arthur sometimes washed your hair for you, rinsing the shampoo out with tenderness only he could display. He’d then dry you up with your softest towels and wrap you in your new bathrobe he got for you, even though you only wore it on the brief trip from bathroom to bedroom. There, you’d step into his embrace and he’d kiss you deep and slow, untying the knot on the bathrobe, slipping it from your shoulders and letting it pool by your feet.

He’d grab the oil then, squirting some into his palms and warming it up as he kneeled in front of you. He always started at your ankles, working up your legs, his touch featherlight on the sensitive spots at the back of your knees. With a kiss to your hip, he’d signal for you to turn around and you did. Wasting no time, his slippery hands ran over your ass, squeezing and massaging rhythmically for long, drawn out minutes. Eventually he stood up, more oils on his hands now as he ran them over your back, applying pressure where you were tense, working up to your shoulders and the back of your neck.

He loved to tease you, and so then his hands slid over your arms down to your fingertips and back up again. He then finally stepped up right behind you, pressing his body against yours and you always gasped at how hot his skin felt then. He only wore underwear and it was straining over his erection that was pressed against your buttocks now. His breath tickled on your ear as he watched his own hands run over your belly – first flat, then getting more pronounced as baby bump started to appear. Only when he was satisfied with his work, his hands would finally, _finally_ go to your breasts, at the same time as his mouth latched over the pulse point on your neck.

His hands felt divine as they held each of your breasts, softly and tenderly squeezing and pulling, teasing your nipples while his mouth still worked on your neck. His hips were hitching against your ass rhythmically as he was unable to control himself anymore. Satisfied with the attention he paid to your tits, his hand snaked between your legs, finger quickly brushing against your clit, but pulling away just as you moaned in pleasure.

“Arthur, please!” you begged breathlessly, but he just chuckled again. “Patience, Kitten. Lie down for me,” he murmured and you did as he said, lying down on your back. Grabbing a different oil now, he settled between your legs.

First time he massaged your perineum, he did it with almost comical focus, mumbling “Just so you won’t tear.” to himself, as if he wanted to assure both of you that he wasn’t doing this just for fun. You wouldn’t mind if he did, though. By the time he got to this part, you were always shaky mess, tangled deep in almost primal pleasure and your own juices were running down your thighs. He was now swirling them together with the oil as his bony fingers probed at your core. “Art, please, just…” you begged, meeting his eyes and he’d look up to you, still surprised how excited you got from his touch. He groaned then and latched his mouth onto your clit, sucking wantonly, his fingers deep inside you now, curling and probing at the spot inside you that amplified the pleasure to almost unbearable levels.

There were two ways this could go. Either he made you cum using his mouth and fingers, finishing himself off on your supple breasts, or he teased you a moment longer with quick flicks of his tongue, before making you move on all four for him.

Once you were in position, he’d lean carefully over you, his chest pressing over your back as he pressed kisses to your nape. “I love you so much, you are so good to me,” he’d whisper then, pushing his painfully hard cock inside of you finally. His hands sneaked around your waist and over your pregnant belly, resting there lovingly, before inevitably moving to your breasts, that hanged full and heavy under you. His hips moved slow and tender as he would make love to you, his heart almost bursting with emotions. As he got close, one of his hands moved to your clit, because Arthur, always the gentleman, never left his lady unsatisfied.

With your soft walls spasming around his cock and your deep moans in his ears, he came with your name on his lips, and you wished this moment would last forever.

Year later, you sometimes missed your never-ending lovemaking, now often put on hold when you had to take care of your beautiful daughter, but as you watched Arthur tickling her face with his soft hair and her laughing and laughing, you didn’t regret a thing.

**Author's Note:**

> I don't even know where this came from, but here we are! Whew!  
Let me know what you think!
> 
> [Hello.](https://wetforarthurfleck.tumblr.com/)


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